We is the Temple: Songs from The Fruit Stare Pod Opera Vol 1.

by The Fruit Stare

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I was born in Chicago In the year 1970 When I was nine years old I saw the news about a meltdown at a Nuclear power plant in Southeastern Pennsylvania I began to have nightmares In which I was being chased through a cornfield by a cloud of radioactive gas running for my life running for my life KRAFTWERK “RADIOACTIVITY" Radioactivity is in the air for you and me Radioactivity discovered by Madame Curie Radioactivity tune into the melody When Jerry Brown came around I learned more about the sun And its energy Ten more years nest I moved west took the aqueduct to the state house I missed hearing Jerry say, Protect the Earth, serve the people, and explore the universe In 2022 I was elected to the 117th and serve the 34th
You may be murdered by remote by the USA On your way home from the mosque or store Were you named as friendly to their worst enemy? Or, are you just a regular Joe? Oh, how they hover They sparkle in the summer Brother, take cover There’s a drone above ya’ Kalashnikovs look like garden tools on this fuzzy screen Where pixelated information glows Electric stimulation brought an uncommon persuasion My finger clicks the mouse, my gut don’t go Oh, how they hover They sparkle in the summer Brother, take cover There’s a drone above ya’
I remember when you said you were leaving Hurricane winds brought a business opportunity So you bought a little land and built a high rise property Fancy people moved in And you became your own man Do you remember when you heard the drums of Burundi? The colonial twin would be white skinned and groovy You put together the band To bang the beats out properly and did The Mockingbirds land? Or was that not part of the plan? I can’t speak for your father, son But your mother didn’t raise no carpetbagger I remember when I said you were perfect The infallible kid God’s gift to humanity It isn’t hard to understand Mr. Greenspan’s philosophy Or how the devil Ayn Rand Turns a boy into a brand I can’t speak for your father, son But your mother didn’t raise no carpetbagger
Your heart is a jewel The oil is under your fingernails now Begin to see that I am He Prostate is a worthy mate and friend Ah! Female prostate, too, is not just pretend So! Rub spices into the Cleanliness Body, ohh! WE IS THE TEMPLE YOU IS THE TABERNACLE I IS THE CENTER OF THE TEMPEST IN THE DESERT --> I <-- Truck into Nevada Eighteen wheels spin away the miles HELLO! Wriggle into your seat of Mercy, Peace and Graciousness Ahh! Only there will we HI HOW ARE YOU Only alone can you HELLO HOW ARE YOU Only at Peace can we HI (Hi!) TEMPLE TEMPLE TEMPLE TABERNACLE TABERNACLE TABERNACLE HI I IS YOUR HE IS ME IS SHE IS WE IS TEMPLE TABERNACLE WE, THE TEMPLE...
ou’ve been on the road for days Thinking of the way You’d like to lay your woman down and say, “be still” Like she’s under your will Is it so wrong to rib your fascist way? Your need to dominate with armored heart and dark malaise Let me see it Let me see you Feel the pleasure of the rumble strip Press your tongue into your teeth and top lip Sometimes you ought to be the passenger Give your ego the slip Let your loving woman steer the ship Let her tie you down and wear the dick How to surrender is a thing to learn Ride your libido with id It’s a shame the way your man behaves How he tailgates all over my grave (it reads) “Here lies Cliché, gone to masquerade in the ether” Feel the pleasure of the rumble strip Leave your body at a steady clip It’s a cry from Melanesia and Vienna’s a trip I got a letter from the sex box man Ten years living on the lamb Said he found a cure for cancer and how to roll a spliff
Water Sign 05:11
I’m born in Cancer I’m entranced by water I used to work for Dirty Dave Now I work for Mystic Mike Life is better on this wave I am a river My love is unconditional Find me east of Gemini I am a moon-child House of Neptune Hear my liquid lullaby In Cochabamba Public water privatized War is the only way Coordinadora! Oscar Olivera! They’re less thirsty today Watch the wealthy Controlling the supply turning water into cream The land is sinking The wells are running dry There is sewage in the stream The fertilizer The heads of the hydra All spewing pesticide But watch my crab walk It’s got some power harasses Hercules They’ll try to tell ya’ you haven’t earned the right To what should be free Protect the commons Our resources from the market Bourgeois monopoly I am a river My love is unconditional Find me east of Gemini I am a moon-child House of Neptune Hear my liquid lullaby
The petitions began in the late 18th century A few former slaves were successful in their efforts to claim compensation for work done while in bondage in the state of Massachusetts. However, many estates failed to make payments and the rulings were rarely enforced. “Emancipation without compensation” Solomon Northrup proposed the idea of reparations to congress in the mid 19th century and in 1867 Congressman Thaddeus Stevens and Senator Charles Sumner attempted to redistribute land to freed people HR 29 died in the House HR 29 died in the House “Emancipation without compensation”
C-Span Minor 05:53
Mr. Speaker, today I introduce Proposition 127, I would like to thank my house colleagues who have signed on as original co-sponsors of this legislation. I begin this morning with a quotation from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. who believed that the black community should consolidate their economic resources as a means to political power yet at the same time emphasized that quote: “we must not be oblivious to the fact that the larger economic problems confronting the Negro community will only be solved by federal programs involving billions of dollars”. Reparations for African Americans are essential if we wish to strengthen and preserve this nation, if we wish to grow beyond our white supremacist-oligarchic identity, and if we wish to heal the wounds that continue to burden the black community left by the institutions of slavery, Jim Crow segregation, and the era of mass incarceration. After many failed attempts by committees on the federal level, my colleagues and I are turning our focus to the state of California for the development of a reparations fund for its black citizenry. To create the capital, we’re proposing a ten-year progressive tax on white workers in a multi-billion dollar industry that was built from the stolen labor of African Americans. Since its inception, the white dominated music industry has depended on black expression as a free and plentiful resource. Whether it’s been white artists imitating black artistry or record executives preying on the lower classes, the corporate music industry has amassed great wealth from the commodification of black culture and exploitation of its black workers. I am offering The white workers Of California’s music industry the opportunity to send a message to the rest of the world, to say we are a compassionate nation to say we acknowledge our barbarity to say we seek out constructive ways to repair the damage done to individuals and their communities A recent study from the Harvard Business School estimated the lost wages of African Americans working in the music industry between 1909 and 1977 at fourteen trillion dollars. Copyright infringement, unpaid royalties, and discriminatory policies are just a few examples of how this money never reached its rightful recipients. On average, the music industry accounts for only 2% of our annual GDP. Fourteen trillion dollars of lost wages in the music industry alone over seventy years makes me wonder how much there is to be accounted for in manufacturing, real estate, or agriculture. The time has come to close the racial wealth gap and embark on a reparations program that is therapeutic and restorative, that combats political and economic inequality, and that expands our national consciousness about slavery’s affects on the present. Thank you Mr. Speaker, I yield back.


released July 27, 2020

The Fruit Stare Band:

Nick Broste – synths, keys
Jim Cooper – bass
Christopher Salveter - vocals
Dave Smith – baritone sax, flute
Jefferey Thomas – guitar
Nick Alvarez - drumkit
Jamie Levinson - drumkit
Andra Kulans – viola
Nora Barton - cello
Kent Lambert - vocals
Courtney Glascoe - vocals
Holly Stevens - vocals
Derik Kendall – guitar, violin
Billie Howard – violin
Rob Pleshar – tuba
Justin Amolsch – french horn
Jim McBride - trumpet
Ellis Seiberling – trombone
Dave Levine – flute


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The Fruit Stare Chicago, Illinois

The Fruit Stare is a foraging habit of orangutans and the name of a Chicago based human multi-media art group experimenting with narrative, sound, and performance.

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